“What is it?” I ask.
Beth pulls one hand away from her mouth. She points, with a shaking hand, towards the bathtub. A thick curtain is drawn across it. I move forward, a sickening feeling in my gut. I think I know why Beth screamed. I can smell it in the air: blood.
I pull the curtain aside and my suspicions are confirmed.
There, lying in the bathtub, is Judge Janice. All seven feet of her, translucent and silvery white, is sprawled in the porcelain tub, with her head propped against the wall. The tiles behind her head are splattered with silvery-red blood. Lying on top of her chest, I see the two-foot-tall trophy.
As I look at the trophy, my stomach twists and turns, and suddenly I know that I won’t have an appetite for spaghetti this evening. Not after seeing what I’m seeing now.
The trophy, too, is splattered with bright, silvery-red blood.
Janice's eyes stare into space, unseeing. I know without a doubt that she’s dead and that the trophy was the murder weapon.
Chapter Four
Fifteen minutes later, I’m huddled in Cora’s bedroom with Annie, Marley, and Cora for an emergency Terra Coven meeting.
We’ve cleared the spirits out the bathroom and have directed our eight ghosty friends to go down to the living room area and wait for us there.
Janice is definitely dead and we have to figure out what we are going to do about it.
“You guys, someone must have smacked Janice over the head with that heavy trophy!” I whisper.
“More than smacked,” Cora says.
Annie nods. “Bonked.”
“Clobbered,” suggests Marley.
“Whacked,” Cora says.
“Clubbed,” Annie says.
“All of those things,” I agree. “And it killed her. I think we can all agree that Judge Janice is dead?”
There are nods all around. “As dead as a ghost can be,” says Marley.
Annie lifts her pointer finger. “They’re not ghosts. They’re spirits. From the Spirit Realm.”
“So they’re not humans that have died?” Marley asks. “I’m confused. I thought that was what spirits were.”
Annie shakes her head. “Not according to Fred. He says that the Spirit Realm is completely different than Earth. It’s not like it’s a place for earthlings to go once they expire.”
Marley frowns. “Well, they look like ghosts. They’re all see-through and everything.”
“But they’re not,” insists Annie. “No. If they were, my Walter might have been there. But Fred insisted that wasn’t the case. Fred said it wasn’t any use for me to look for Walter there, and I believe him.”
“Fred seems like a very believable person,” I say. “I get the impression that he’s friendly and sincere.”
Annie nods. “I agree, Penny. Fred said that the Spirit Realm is just a different universe, and there are several kinds of magical beings there. Spirits are their own set, just as goblins and ghouls are their own set.”
“What is a ghoul?” I ask. It’s something I’ve always wondered about.
“I think they’re beings with kind of flabby cheeks that hang down,” says Marley. She tugs on her cheeks comically.
“You’re thinking of jowls, Marley,” says Cora primly.
Marley makes a funny face, and I laugh.
“We’re getting off track,” Annie says.
“Right,” says Cora. “What are we going to do about the dead body in my bathtub?”
We’re all silent for a beat. Then Marley speaks up, “It’s just weird to me because I feel like they’re already dead. I mean, I can see right through them.”
“What does that have to do with being dead?” Cora asks.
I chime in. “Well, there is a dead body in the bathtub. I think we can all agree on that. But it’s not a human body. Therefore, I vote that we do not call on the human police, or the human medics.”
Marley scrunches up her nose at me. “You just don’t want to see Chris,” she says.
I tilt my chin up. “I am perfectly fine with seeing Christopher. We’re on good terms these days. Great terms. I just... I think it’d be more of a hassle than a help to involve them. They won’t understand what they see in there.”
“I don’t understand what I see in there,” Marley says.
“I barely do, either,” I say. “But at least we have a better chance of wrapping our heads around it than the cops do. So I vote no cops. No medics. Who is with me?”
One by one, my witch sisters raise their hands.
Cora is last. As she does, she says. “But if we don’t call the cops or the medics, what are we going to do with that body? Just send it home with them? I mean, I assume we’re going to kick these guys out of Earth now?”
I push my glasses up on my nose. “I think that would be a bad move,” I say. “The relationship between the Spirit Realm and the Earth Realm is a bit tense ever since Cora got engaged to Silas. I think that we need to patch this up on our own—by figuring out who the killer is.”
“But there’s a ghost murderer—” Marley begins.
“Spirit murderer,” corrects Cora.
“That’s just as bad,” says Marley. “Here—on Earth. They might kill again.”
I speak up. “It’s possible,” I say. “But not likely. This wasn’t a random murder, you guys. I think whoever did this had a vendetta specifically against Judge Janice. I think one of our spirit athletes wanted to kill her.” I glance over my shoulder to check that Cora’s bedroom door is securely closed. Then I face my friends again, lean in and whisper, “I may even have an idea about who it was.”
Cora, Marley, and Annie lean in closer to me, too. “Who?” they ask in unison.
“Annie, when we were chatting up there by the portal, did you notice how quiet Janice was being?”
“Yes,” Annie says.
“Well, I asked Fred about it. He said that Janice had been accused of being too close to the tennis players in the past. I guess they had a tournament decades ago, and Janice was the judge then, too. Rumor was that Janice was close with Boris.”
There are gasps all round.
“And... not only that...” I say, “there was also gossip that she was a little too close with Henry.”
“Both of those men have wives now,” Cora says. “I saw that Boris at least was wearing a wedding ring.”
“So is Henry,” Annie says.
“Maybe their wives don’t like the fact that Janice was close with their men,” I say. “Or maybe one of the affairs kept going. I mean, think about Beth. She was the one who had that heavy trophy in her suitcase.”
“You’re right!” Annie says. “She showed it to us while we were waiting for our ride down! Penny, you are very talented.”
I wave my hand. “Oh, this is nothing,” I say. “This is just the beginning. We haven’t really even started yet. But you guys... I do think that we could figure out who killed Janice. But to do that, our guests have to stick around—at least for the weekend.”
“I don’t think they’ll be able to stay longer than that,” Annie says. “Fred told me that the Earth Realm atmosphere is only tolerable for them for about forty-eight hours. The gravity also has some kind of effect on their joints, and it gets to be highly uncomfortable if they have to put up with it for much more than two days. He said they’d be leaving by Monday morning at the latest or else they would all get very sick.”
“Okay,” I say. “So we have until Monday morning to solve this case.”
Cora frowns. “But one of them is a killer. And we’ve invited them to stay at our houses.”
“We’re going to have to be on high alert,” I say. “But I think we can handle it.”
“How can we be on high alert when we’re sleeping?” Cora asks.
I think about this for a minute. Then I say, “We’ll do like ducks do. They sleep in little packs and take turns staying awake. The duck that stays awake can alert the others to danger.”
“We’re going to have a gi
ant sleepover?” Annie asks. She actually sounds more excited about it than I would expect.
“A sleepover... with ducks?” Marley asks. She looks excited too.
“No,” I say, shaking my head. “I don’t think that’s necessary. Look—Marley, you won't’ have guests ‘cause you live in your van and there’s no room. Annie, you won’t have any stay with you either because you don’t have a guest room. I have two guests. Turkey and I can take turns staying awake to keep our eyes on them. And Cora, you’ll have two spirits staying with you. You and Blueberry can take turns.”
“Blueberry is very sensitive about her sleep schedule,” Cora says, frowning.
“It’ll just be for two nights,” Marley says. “And most of the night we’ll be up because of the tournament anyway. We’ll be sleeping during the day, so our sleep schedules will be a bit wonky to begin with.”
Cora sighs. “I suppose I can handle it and so can Blueberry. For the good of the group. I wonder how Silas is going to feel about all of this.”
“He’ll have some suspects staying with him as well,” I say. “But he’s a tough guy. I’m sure he’s been in far more dangerous situations than this one.”
“He has told me some stories,” Cora says, nodding. “I think he’ll agree that it’s important for us to have a good relationship with the Spirit Realm. Okay, maybe we should do it. Maybe we should try to solve this case. But I do have one condition.”
“What’s that?” I ask, though I think I know. Cora hasn’t stopped fidgeting and looking at the door since we entered her bedroom. The body in her bathroom is driving her nuts.
She looks in the direction of the door again as she says, “That body... we have to move it. I mean, yes, I’m studying to be a witch. I practically signed up to have weird magical stuff happen to me. But this is where I draw the line. I can’t just let that body sit in there—crime scene or not. I’m studying witchcraft —I’m not insane.”
We’re so close! I can feel it. In another few minutes, my witch sisters are going to agree to help me solve this case.
“It is rather unhygienic, isn’t it?” Annie asks.
Marley scrunches up her nose. “Totally against all rules of Feng Shui.”
“I can see where you’re coming from,” I agree. “I guess I wouldn’t want a dead body in my bathroom all weekend either. I’ll have a word with Fred when we go downstairs and see if he can arrange for the body to be picked up at the portal.”
Annie nods. “Fred seems to be a very capable man. I’m sure he’ll be more than willing to help. And transportation between realms can happen in quite a jiffy. They seemed to make the journey quite effortlessly!”
I nod. “It shouldn’t be a problem,” I say. I look around at my sisters. “So, what do you say? Are you guys in? Are we going to solve this case together?” I look pointedly at Cora.
She nods hesitantly. “If the body goes, I suppose I could maybe be okay with working on this case.”
“Me too,” says Marley. “Minus the ‘suppose’ and ‘could maybe’ parts.”
“I’m in, too,” Annie says, an excited twinkle in her eye.
I clap my hands. “Yes! We can do this! Okay, I think it might be best if we let the tournament go on exactly as we planned it, despite the murder. It might be the best way to flush out any animosities between the players.”
“I agree,” Annie says. “Besides that, they’re here to play tennis. If we tell them that the tennis tournament is off, I have a feeling they won’t stick around. Without players, the first annual Walterdon would really be a bust.”
“We can’t have that,” I say.
“No,” Marley agrees.
“So the tournament goes on,” Cora says. “Without a judge?”
I shake my head. “We need a judge,” I say.
Marley sounds puzzled as she asks, “But who?”
Her question stumps us. For a few minutes, we toss around ideas. Our best options seem to be Annie, who has experience playing tennis, but not judging it, and me—because I watched a few Youtube videos of Wimbledon.
Not great options, to say the least. As we continue to puzzle over our situation, my phone rings. I see that it’s Max.
“You guys mind if I take this?” I ask, looking around our little group.
“Not at all,” Cora says. “I’ll take a minute to call Silas, too.”
With that, I answer my phone.
“Hee whoo heee whooo...” I can hear Max breathing hard.
“Max?” I say. “Are you running?”
“Hee whoo hee whoo. Yes! Five miles to go. I wanted to see if you felt like meeting me for the final stretch.”
It’s so good to hear his voice. Max and I have been an item for about two months, but we haven’t yet reached that comfortable point. The sound of his deep, rich voice still gives me butterflies.
In addition to running hard, he sounds like he’s smiling. Max is a highly evolved being. He’s been around for five hundred years, so I guess it makes sense. He says that he’s found out how to control his emotions so that he only feels the pleasant ones, like excitement, curiosity and joy. In addition to being a master of his emotions, Max is also a vampire. He says the two things go hand in hand. I don’t really get that, but I have a feeling he knows what he’s talking about.
“Max, it’s dark outside and freezing cold. There’s snow on the ground,” I say.
“Perfect running weather!” Max says. “Whooo, heee whooo. Just getting to a hill here. It’s a good one! Nice and steep! Good for the quads! You sure? I can’t wait to see you, Penny.”
“I’m excited to see you, too,” I say, smiling to myself. “I know you’ve only been out of town for a week, but it feels like so much longer.”
“Can I come right over?” Max asks. “I should be there within the hour.”
“I’d love that,” I say. “Except I’m not at home. I’m at Cora’s house. We have a bit of a situation on our hands.”
“What kind of a—hee whoo hee whooo—situation?” Max asks.
“Well, Annie was upset because it’s the death anniversary of her husband. So we all agreed it would be a good idea to do something fun and different—namely hosting a bunch of athletes from the Spirit Realm so that they can play tennis here in the Earth Realm. Supposedly, the gravity is much better.”
“Oh, yes. Hee whooo hee whooo. Much better,” Max says.
“Things got off to a good start,” I report. “But quickly went downhill. We just got to Cora’s house for a spaghetti dinner, and—“
“Spaghetti dinner!” says Max, clearly appalled. “You mean processed spaghetti, made with white flour?”
I don’t have time to answer. Max has climbed up on his soapbox, and there’s no stopping him now.
“Penny, do you know that flour and water are used as wallpaper paste? Do you think athletes really need that in their systems?”
“It’s carb loading,” I say. “It’s a thing, isn’t it? It’s supposed to help.”
I have a feeling I know his answer. “No,” he says. “It most definitely does not help. Carb loading is a myth, that’s what it is. Hee whoo hee whoo. Highly processed carbs are disastrous for the body. I think you should serve your athlete's lentil stew. That’s what sherpas eat when they’re climbing Mount Everest. Hee whoo... Did I ever tell you about my hike up Everest?”
I hear a car horn in the background.
“Is someone honking at you?” I ask.
“Yes,” Max says. “The road is very narrow here. Fortunately, I’m wearing head to toe reflective gear, and my running belt has lights on it.”
“Wow,” I say, picturing what his get-up must look like.
“You don’t live to five hundred and two years old by taking safety lightly,” Max says. “Whoo hee—getting steeper here. It feels good. My lungs are working very hard. Heee whooo. You said that the tournament took a turn for the worse?”
“Yes!” I say. “We got to Cora’s house and were about to tuck into— well, th
at’s not important. The important thing is the judge, this lady named Janice, went upstairs to use the bathroom and a few minutes later an athlete found her murdered! In the bathtub! Hit over the head with the tennis tournament trophy. Isn’t that crazy?”
“Ha! Not crazy at all. Penny, you do attract trouble like a flame attracts winged moths. You’re going to find the killer, I assume? Ah—I’ve leveled out now. This is nice. Four miles to go.”
“You just ran a mile?” I ask. “During this conversation?”
“Just about,” Max says. “You know, the world record for the fastest mile was set by a student of mine, a few years back. Three minutes and forty-five seconds. You can bet he didn’t eat wallpaper paste before events. He was a wonderful runner. He could catch antelope as easily as if he was picking flowers in a field. And when he drank their blood, he always said—”
“Max,” I interrupt. “I’d better get going. I’m here with my coven and I don’t want to keep them waiting. Plus, we have some very anxious spirits downstairs as well.” Not to mention I don’t particularly want to hear a story about a vampire sucking blood.
I’m crazy about Max, but I’m still squeamish about the fact that he drinks the blood of the wild game that he hunts for. I continue, “We’ve decided that the tournament will go on. It’s the best way for us to catch the killer. Right now, we’re trying to figure out who will judge the games. Since Janice the Judge was killed, we need to replace her.”
“I could do it,” Max says. “I’ve been playing tennis for years... since the game was invented in 1873.”
“By a vampire?” I guess.
Max laughs. “No, sadly not by a vampire.”
“The games are at night,” I say.
“That’s fine by me,” Max says. “I miss you, Penny. If you’re going to be tied up with a tennis tournament all weekend, I want to be tied up with you.”
I smile as I answer, “I’d really like to spend time with you, too. Okay, the games start at eight tonight. I have to run home and feed Turkey. Want to meet me at my place a little after seven, and we can walk to the park together?”
The Case of the Trust Spell: A Hillcrest Witch Mystery (Hillcrest Witch Cozy Mystery Book 4) Page 4
